Feast of the Senses
by Higuchimon
Summary: [one-shot, Emily x Jason/Jason x Emily] All of Jason's senses react to Emily, everything about her, and everything they've been through together.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters or situations presented here and am not making any profit off of them whatsoever.  
**Story Title:** Feast of the Senses  
**Rated:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** 3,848  
**Romance:** Emily x Jason  
**Notes:** This takes place an undetermined time in the future. Comments and criticism gratefully accepted.  
**Summary:** All of Jason's senses react to Emily, everything about her, and everything they've been through together.

* * *

She was beautiful. She had a wonderful personality, a sweet sense of humor, and the ability to learn from her mistakes, unlike some of the girls he'd known in high school, but the fact she was extraordinarily easy on the eyes was always what struck Jason first about Emily. He was, after all, a human male.

He liked to look at her when she moved the most. He really more than just looked at her. That kind of implied a casual glance now and then. He had started off like that, before they'd begun to date. But now he let his eyes travel along with her as she walked or when they worked out together. She wasn't into the martial arts as much as he was, but as they lived in Angel Grove, it was considered healthy, normal, and required for everyone to know enough about self-defense to take care of oneself if necessary.

Was there something he liked to look at the most about her? Well, there really were several things. But what he liked the most was the fact she was there to be watched in the first place. The first time he'd seen her, there had been a spark, he was certain. Maybe she hadn't felt it; he hadn't ever asked. But he knew that _he_ had. His attention had been drawn by her actions and kept by her attitude. There were, after all, more things to look at than just her glistening hair and curious, wondering eyes.

There was the gleam in those eyes that came from helping other people, one that had slowly grown inch by inch as she herself had come to realize how good it could be. He had more than enjoyed watching her start to reach out to other people, and seeing her grow more and more confidant in herself had been a pleasure to view.

Jason couldn't even list everything he liked to watch about her. The mental chart had grown by leaps and bounds ever since that first day. He didn't know if he wanted to thank Ernie for having the good sense to hire her when she'd offered more, or thank Eddie for bringing her there that day. It hadn't been the best of beginnings, but he couldn't imagine how else he might have been able to first encounter her.

He wondered, even now, if she'd suspected that he was a Power Ranger back in those days. She hadn't ever said anything, but there were times when she would cast a glance of her own at him that just made him wonder. Once or twice when he'd seen reports of Power Rangers on the news in other cities she'd watched him, with a slightly concerned look to her eyes. And when he had joined all of the other Red Rangers on the mission to the moon, she'd been waiting at his apartment when he got back. They hadn't had a date that day, and he hadn't expected her there. But she'd been, and she still hadn't said anything about the Rangers. Her words echoed briefly in his mind.

"I just was worried about you. That's all." She hadn't said why, and he hadn't been able to ask. Zordon's rule was still engraved in his soul after all this time.

He wanted to. He wanted to more than he wanted to do so many other things. It couldn't be as difficult now, not since he was retired, but he'd made a promise to one of the few people he cared for enough to honor that vow even after Zordon's death.

So instead of asking, he asked if she wanted to go out to dinner instead. She'd been more than agreeable. Most of her dinners came from the freezer and the microwave unless Jason decided that he wanted to cook or they went out to eat. There weren't many people beyond his friends and Emily who knew just how good of a cook he was, too. With all the care he took with his martial arts, there was no way he was going to just let himself survive off the frozen food that so many of his bachelor counterparts did.

That night, however, he hadn't wanted to cook for himself. After everything that had happened, he was just too exhausted. He hadn't even begun to realize how much stress and strain morphing could put on someone. That was yet another reason it was better for teenagers to be Power Rangers. Their bodies could handle it without almost falling apart, at least for the type of Power that _he_ had used. He was under the impression it was different for some of the others.

When he closed his eyes, even now, the first thing that rose to his mind about her was the scent of her perfume. She usually wore some kind of scent, though he'd never been able to give it a name. This didn't mean she hadn't told it to him. He could never remember it. He hadn't ever been good with that sort of thing. Naming flowers by scent was much more of Kim's thing than his anyway.

Besides, the scent really had a name: Emily. Whenever he caught a whiff of it, she was the first image that appeared in his thoughts. He had passed a perfume counter in the mall once and someone must have had the same brand on, because he'd caught himself looking around to see if she were there. He knew that she couldn't be the only person who used it, but the scent and Emily were so inextricably bound together in his mind there was no seperating them, even if he'd wanted to.

He couldn't recall just when he'd first noticed that she wore it so regularly. It had to have been shortly after they met, for him to associate it so thoroughly with her.

There were other scents that were linked with her, though, and they didn't always come in a bottle. There was the aroma of lightly battered fish: one of her favorite foods. He'd learned a few recipies just for her, and tended to make them on her birthday or their anniversary. Oil and gasoline also reminded him of her: for the motorcycle that she'd urged him to get a couple of years earlier, and had taught him how to ride.

"The only reason I wasn't riding _mine_ the day you met me was because it was in the shop," she'd told him frankly. "Eddie taught me how. Come on, let's get started."

"You're amazing," Jason had told her with a shake of his head. She hadn't really understood why he said it, and it wasn't something easily explained. But evey time he had thought he had her figured out, something new cropped up that made at least part of her into a mystery again. That eternal change was just one of the reasons he loved her as much as he did.

She had so many different sides to her, so much that he knew and still more than he didn't know. Maybe that was one of the reasons she never acknowledged whether she knew about his Ranger past or not. She had her secrets and he had his, and they both respected that about each other. There were places in each of them that the other didn't pry into. _When she wants me to know, I will._ He knew he would tell her someday. Maybe if he could talk to Dimitria about it at some point? It had been years since he'd seen her, and they hadn't talked about anything personal at all. He couldn't even call her a mentor, since he'd been retired when she'd guided the Turbo Rangers.

But if she told him that he could tell Emily, he would accept it from her. Zordon _had_ chosen her as his successor, and he had faith in the Eltarian's wisdom. He wished that he'd thought to ask Zordon himself about it before he'd left for Eltar. _He did like Emily, though._ If she hadn't been as old as Jason, Tommy, and the others were, she might have been considered to be a Ranger. Of course if she had been that young, he wouldn't have been quite as interested in dating her at the time, either. It was a reasonable compromise.

What would she have thought of being told that? It wasn't impossible that it could happen still. There were always new powers being uncovered and sometimes some of them suited older people more, such as the ones for the Lightspeed Rangers. It was _unlikely_, but not impossible.

What if she had been one of them that day all those years before when Rita had first been released and they had been chosen? He wasn't sure how that would work, as there had only been five coins at the time, but perhaps something could have been worked out.

To have had her there when Zordon had first told them of what was going on and how they were the ones chosen to save the world would have been _different_, to say the least. Maybe they wouldn't even have been as close now as they were, or conversely, they could be closer. The philosophy of it all was much more of Trini's type of thinking than his. He'd have to give her a call sometime and see what she thought about it.

What would her voice sound like, raised in a morphing call? He couldn't imagine her with the Pterodactyl or Sabre-Tooth Tiger or the calls that the Zeo Rangers had uttered. She would be strong, though, of that he was certain. She already was. He liked to listen to her talk, though she never babbled. When Emily spoke, she had something to say, and not just to hear the sound of her own voice. Since he was much the same way, he approved greatly of that habit.

There was one thing he didn't really like to hear from her: when she sang in the shower. He'd heard it a few times, and he hadn't yet been able to bring himself to say that it wasn't exactly the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. His own voice wasn't that wonderful at any time himself, so he had little room to talk. Hers wasn't like nails on a chalkboard, but it just wasn't a good singing voice.

But when she spoke in a normal tone, that he _did_ like to hear. She had a way of whispering when they were alone that made him strain to hear her, and once in a while she'd even made comments that sent the blood rushing to his cheeks. She was one of the few people who had ever been able to do that to him.

He was also grateful that she was never tempted to sing along with her favorite music whenever it came on. She did have good taste in music, which for the most part meant he wasn't revolted by what she liked, and they liked a lot of the same bands. There were a few they clashed on, and her voice had been raised more than once telling him that he was an idiot for not liking whatever group she currently thought was good, and he'd rolled his eyes and did his best to put in whatever it was he wanted to hear.

That sort of thing usually resulted in a twenty minute argument followed by a thirty minute make-up and make-out session, set to music by one of the bands they both liked.

Then there was the way she said his name that sent thrills all down his spine. He didn't know much of music beyond what he liked to listen to, but he knew what he liked, and the sound of his name on her lips was something he liked a _great_ deal. He hoped to hear it many more times during the rest of their lives together.

The sound he really liked the most with her was, of all things, _silence_. Silence meant there was nothing that needed to be said, because they said it without words. Silence had them wrapped up in one another's arms, usually on the bed or the couch or sometimes leaning against a tree in the park, watching the sun go down. Silence was broken only by the soft in and out of breathing and the noises of the rest of the world that they were a part of going on around them. Silence was knowing the other was there by the beating of their heart, nothing more. Silence was, in every sense of the word, golden, and he wouldn't trade it for anything in every world.

She filled his arms completely. He had done his fair share of dating, both while he was in Switzerland, and to an extent before he'd become a Ranger. While he was Red Ranger, he hadn't done a lot of it. At least, he hadn't dated anyone twice in a row. He couldn't bring himself to risk someone else's life like that, not after he saw some of what happened to Billy's girlfriends.

There had also been no _spark_ between himself and any of the other girls at Angel Grove High. There had always been a distance between him and them. None of them had seemed all that real. Their thoughts were mostly taken up with how nice they looked and which kind of local jock they wanted to date. He hadn't thought there was anything wrong about it, until he'd gotten a sudden smash in the face with reality, going under the names of Rita Repulsa and Goldar.

All of his real temptations to date had _really_ vanished with the coming of Tommy Oliver, though he hadn't known it at the time. It had taken being less than an inch from death at the Green Ranger's blade for him to turn from a slightly overgrown child into an adult virtually overnight. This fighting they were doing was real, and it could result in them being killed, in a way that none of their schoolmates had ever thought of before.

He wasn't angry at Tommy for that. He never had been. He would always be grateful, in an odd way, for it. Because of that, he could sit with Emily, hold her, feel her solidity, and be thankful with all of his soul that Tommy had come and shown him how precious life was, how it should be savored and treasured. He had a feeling his best friend knew that as well, and that was one of the reasons he was doing what he was. _I should go see him sometime soon._ It was a long trip to Reefside, but it would be worth it. He made a note to check into getting some free time as soon as he could.

Maybe he could even pick up a surprise gift for Emily while he was down there. Her birthday would be soon, and he wanted to be certain he got something that she liked. He hadn't missed one of her birthdays since they started dating, and now would be a bad time to start. He wasn't certain when he wanted to ask the words that were on his mind, but he would find the right time. Maybe that was something he could talk to Tommy about. It wasn't as if the other had any special experience asking someone _that_ question, since he was still single himself, but that was the kind of thing he felt comfortable asking Tommy about.

Who knew, maybe Tommy could even suggest a gift, if nothing else. Or they would see something while going around town. That was how he'd found Emily's Christmas gift a few months earlier. She'd _loved_ the matching leather jackets. The look on her face when she'd run her hands down the sleeves and across the back, caressing the leather as if it were somehow sacred, had been worth every penny they'd cost all by itself.

That was one thing he'd learned quickly about her: she loved the feel of leather. He knew he loved the feel and the sight of her _in_ the jacket. When she wore it, he could pretend he was holding her even if they weren't together. He'd told her that once, and she'd blushed before whispering back, "Funny. That's exactly what I do too."

When they went riding on his motorcycle together, Jason didn't have to imagine either of them touching the other. He could feel them both so close together, it was almost as if they were in one another's skin. He loved the way her arms felt clasped around his waist and the feel of her head pressed against his back. Sometimes they turned it around and went riding on _her_ motorcycle, and he got to hold her while they raced the wind. Either way thrilled him, since it meant they were doing something together. Sometimes he even liked it better if he rode behind her, because he liked holding her just a little more than he liked being held by her. Just a _little_ more. He supposed it was a macho guy thing. As macho guy things went, it was harmless, so he didn't stress himself about it. Besides, he was a macho guy anyway.

In all seriousness, he liked it no matter who held who. They were still together, which mattered more than anything. Sometimes it was easier to turn and pull her close enough for a kiss. Sometimes it was easier when she was the one leaning backwards to brush their lips together. He was willing to try either way and any way.

It was the kissing that mattered in that situation, not who kissed who. They kissed each other. That was the way it was, and the way it was supposed to be, two sets of lips closing on one another, one or both arms wrapped around each other, the warmth of another body so close to his. He could taste her lipstick a little as they closed on one another, and sometimes a little of what she'd recently eaten, which wrapped his mind around the scents of cooking and the feel of her next to him, the soft sound of her breath, the sight of her eyes so close to his...

She was a feast for the senses, and he enjoyed dining at every opportunity.

Once in a while he could taste a little wine on her lips, if they'd just had some kind of a fancy dinner. It wasn't something he drank all that often. He preferred having total control over himself at all times. He'd gotten drunk once before, and the sensasations that ran through him weren't at all like the various spells he'd been under over the years. They were, however, close enough to the total loss of control that had come with being infected by Maligore's flames that he had never let himself do that again. The headache hadn't even been close to worth it.

That was something else she accepted without question, his reluctance to drink. For the most part, she wrote it off as just an aspect of his devotion to the martial arts. But like when she had been there after the Red Ranger mission, there were times when she said or did something that made him simply _wonder_. Every year, two weeks before the anniversary of their high school graduation, she would spend a day or so watching him out of the corner of her eyes. If he asked, she wouldn't ever say anything out of the ordinary. Frequently she brushed it off with a simple smile and a joke. But that time of year was the anniversary also of when he and Kim had been abducted by Maligore and he had truly lost control of himself for the first time.

She knew about the dreams he had. It was impossible to hide them when he usually woke her up with his thrashings. At least he hadn't ever woken up screaming. In the first year or two after it had happened, he'd almost wished he _could_ scream. It might have released a little of the tension he found himself under. But as the days and weeks had faded into months and years, the taste of fear and shame faded away for the most part. He was able to deal with it, and having her there was a large of being able to deal. She grounded him in the reality of being a human being, and he would always love her for that.

He couldn't imagine any more what it would be like to be without her, and after all the years they had been together, he didn't think he would ever have to. Maybe he wouldn't need as much help asking that question of her as he'd thought he would. He would still wait for her birthday before he _did_ ask it. But the words would come when he wanted them to, and he was confidant that he would hear the same answer that he had when he'd asked if she wanted to go out with him for that first time all those years earlier.

How had he gotten this lucky, finding someone who fit him as well as she did? They'd had their fights, of course, and they had once broken up for several months, needing some space from each other. When they'd reunited, it had been with a much deeper understanding of how much they really did mean to each other, and while things hadn't been flawless since then, they had been well enough. He loved the thought of waking up to her every morning. It was everything he'd dreamed of for years and even, in so many ways, more.

Warm, slender fingers brushed back his hair, and he looked up to see her smiling at him. "It's almost dinner time," she murmured softly in his ear, and chills slithered down his spine at the feel of her breath there. She knew how he reacted to that, and had more than likely done it on purpose. "So what are we having?"

There were a lot of answers he could have made to that. He could virtually hear Zack's voice in his mind for one or two of them. Instead, he went for the pure factual one and listed off one of her favorite meals, anticipating and getting the light in her eyes with each item that he named. "That sounds _great_! I wish I could cook like you."

"You're enough of a feast just by yourself." The words slipped out of his mouth, and he was glad he didn't blush. There was nothing embarassing about them, but he might have reddened a little if he'd said them several years earlier. Instead, he only smiled as she grinned at him, leaned in more closely, and brushed her lips by his in a butterfly-like kiss.

She filled his eyes with beauty. Her soft laugh filled his ears with joy. The feel of her in his arms was perfect. The gentle aroma of her familiar perfume floated around him. He could taste her on his lips, sweeter than the rarest wine. All of his senses were thrilled by her. He was complete. _They_ were complete.

**The End**


End file.
